


Eclipse

by Marvellittleshit



Category: MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: ADHD, Alex and Sean are cats, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Peter Maximoff, Daddy Issues, Emma Frost is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lorna's dead, M/M, Magna's dead, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Pansexual Peter Maximoff, Peter Maximoff Needs a Hug, Peter Maximoff has ADHD, Peter Maximoff is a magic user, Peter Maximoff is a telepath, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter has anxiety, Peter speaks multiple languages, Pietro Maximoff Goes by Peter, Raven | Mystique is So Done, Raven | Mystique is trying to get Peter and Warren back, Some Humor, Wanda's dead, Warren Worthington III Lives, Warren's an alcoholic, Warrens trying to be a good boyfriend, dadneto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvellittleshit/pseuds/Marvellittleshit
Summary: "I think, for now, I'm just gonna stick around here for a while"He always knew in his heart this was a lie. Peter Maximoff could never stay in one place for a long time, he's made far too many enemies to.
Relationships: Peter Maximoff/Warren Worthington lll, Pietro Maximoff/Warren Worthington III, Sean Cassidy/Alex Summers
Kudos: 32





	1. The Piper at The Gates of Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story on AO3. I myself don't have Bipolar Disorder however, I do have both ADHD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I have made sure to research Bipolar Disorder a lot as to not upset anybody. Constructive Criticism always welcome!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1975, Peter comes home to a gory sight

### The Piper at The Gates of Dawn

**_Washington D.C, Summer of 1975, Third-Person Point of View_ **

1975 was the year he found out the world was shit. When he felt the greatest pain he's felt in his life. When the voices started to be in his head. He soon realized that the voices were other people's thoughts. That was the moment he sped back home just to find out he was too late. The last gunman was leaving.

**_He wishes he killed him on the spot_.**

But he didn't. He instead ran inside. A low hum of a _Johnny Quest_ episode was tuned out by him as he gasped at the horror in front of him. Wanda was dead. 3 bullets to her chest. It looked like she was helping his mom in the kitchen when the attackers came in. Blood was splattered on the floor, the cabinets and there was a bit of the ceiling. But he already knew she was dead before he came here. If she wasn't dead then Peter wouldn't have just gained telepathy. The spell Wanda cast had Peter gain it as soon as she hit the ground.

His mother Magna was barely holding on, her blood splattered on the cabinets, floor, and stove. He expected it from her. She was one of the sassiest, smartest, and most powerful women he knew. She taught him everything he knew up to that point. How to cast a spell, how to seduce your way out of anything, the nature of humans and fools, and the coldness of the world, among other things. She always knew what to do, what to make fun of, when to leave, or what anybody needed help with. He remembers vividly being 7 years old and immigrating to the U.S from Paris. He was actually born in Moscow and lived there for 4 years prior, but with the ongoing cold war, they moved from Moscow to Berlin. Then Berlin to Munich. Then Munich to Amsterdam. Then Amsterdam to Geneva. Then Geneva to Paris. Then finally Paris to Washington D.C. It wasn't that they were nomads, they definitely weren't in fact if it was possible they would pick a city and stay there for a long time. It was more of if you were a family of witches, with over half of the family also being mutants, you really couldn't stay in one place for a long time. Especially if the head of the said family was well known for being a powerful and influential witch. D.C was surprisingly safe though, but the Russian accent, the one that showed his place of origin, never left him. He could mask it, but it never left.

**_It was only natural that his mother would be able to hold on the longest out of all of them._ **

_"P-Pietro, c-come here-e"_

Her voice was shaky, and clearly crapping out on her as she beckoned him to sit beside her dying, bloody body. She was shot more times than Wanda, though he didn't care to count how many times. As he kneeled down to her level, he moved her head to be resting on his arm. She took her hand and cupped his cheek. 

_"They k-know Pietro. They know you were the one to break that man out of prison two years ago."_

His mind wandered to when he returned home from that little adventure of his just for in a few hours the man to be on T.V attempting to kill the president. He remembered his mother's reaction to the man like it was just yesterday. For the first time in Peter's life, **his mother** **looked scared**. Like she had just seen a ghost. 

" _She knows him''_

Wanda told him.

_"I couldn't figure out who he was before I was kicked out of her mind, but I know she knows him."_

After that, his mom told him never to speak of or associate with that man ever again. She refused to say who the man was. What relation they had with each other. Where she had met him. **Anything.**

"мать, _who is that man?"_

Peter questioned, desperate for answers. 

" _He is your father, Pietro"_

She didn't say anything else after that but instead went cold in his arms. He could feel her life draining from her quickly.

**He knows he couldn't have done anything about it, but he still wonders if he could.**

A couple of seconds after she died in his arms, he called out for Lorna before realizing she too was dead. He got up and slowly walked throughout the kitchen before getting to the living room. The cartoon playing on the T.V was obscured, as the screen was covered in blood. He let out a cry as he saw his sister, his 8-year-old sister, his 8-year-old sister who had an entire life ahead of her with her mutation only recently coming in, murdered more brutally than the rest of them. There was not a part of his living room that was not **red**. A bit of metal was strung across the room, showing that she had tried to fight back. This was probably the reason she was killed in such a violent manner. She had the same mutation as that man. That man he found out only a minute ago was his father, his father that he's been looking for for years, his father that his twin sister would never get to meet. Her left arm looked as if it was just shot off, barely staying attached to her body. A hole was in her neck, one too big to be caused by a single bullet. One of her eyes was shot out. Her leg was clearly broken, and he could see her intestines. Her entire body was covered in blood. He fell to his knees and started to sob. 

The back door opened and he heard the voice of his neighbor Mrs. Thompson.

" _Honey? Are you alright? I heard some noises from the house and saw some men with guns exit through the back."_

He cried louder as he heard the horrified scream of the well-meaning neighbor as she saw the two bodies. He grabbed Lorna's body and hugged it sobbing into the fully intact shoulder. 

He heard her frantic thoughts, worrying about him and Lorna, as well as her footsteps as she ran down the hall to the living room. 

"Oh my goodness!!"

She screamed and ran towards him. 

"Sweetheart don't touch the body!"

She pulled him back from Lorna. He heard a second person came through the door. 

"Mariya! Are you okay?"

It was Mr. Thompson, who no doubt saw the bodies. 

"Call the police! Ms. Maximoff and her two daughters are dead!" "What about her son?!" "He's in the living room! I found him crying into the younger one's body!"

The two Thompsons yelled back and forth until Peter finally heard Mr. Thompson call the police. They still yelled back and forth, but he only heard words like _"men with guns"_ and _"the boy came in after they left."_ He tuned everything else out as his life as he knew it came crashing down before his eyes. 


	2. A Saucerful of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1975, Peter breaks into the Pentagon again believing that they had something to do with his family's death.

### A Saucerful of Secrets

###  _**Washington D.C, Summer of 1975, Third-Person POV** _

**" _BEEP, BEEP, BEEP"_** The alarm went off. The Pentagon must have gotten better security after his little stunt 2 years ago. No matter. They wouldn't be able to catch him. No matter how hard they tried. All he cared about were the files. The documents that potentially had all the information he needed. Or maybe they didn't. In which case he would move onto the next highly secured government facility. His trip this time was actually planned. He knew enough about the layout of the place from the last time he was in there, which wasn't even the first time. The first time was when he was 14. His mom sent him and Wanda in there to get some random magical artifact that was supposedly important or something. He didn't actually care about what it was, only that it got back to its rightful owner, some old lady in Kansas he did not know (or care to know) the name of. Although he did remember that it started with an A. Agnes? Agatha? Who cares. She had no importance to him or his mission. His footsteps were drowned out by those who were coming to stop him. Amusing it was, that they thought they stood a chance against the fastest man alive. 

The men came out in rows with their guns pointed at him, pulling the trigger just to have their aim, altered, a little bit. They all fell to the floor, having all taken a bullet to the face. Peter crouched down and grabbed one of their guns from them. It might become useful in the future. He grumbled as he was a bit of blood on his new, long, leather jacket. It wasn't that noticeable, however, considering that it was a firey scarlet color. Originally Wanda's, he wore it to symbolize that even in death, his sister and partner in federal crime were still with him. This would be what she wanted, she would've wanted **revenge**. If he was shot the whole place would've looked a lot different, and not in a nice way. Under Wanda's jacket was another red piece from Wanda's closet, a redshirt also made with leather, with a bit of pink at the neckline, which speaking of, was a little too deep for his comfort. It made him thankful as all hell that he shaved, however. The skirt was unnecessary, but he figured he needed something to make the look a little more pleasing being on a male and all. He had his pentagram necklace on around his neck, the same one that his mother gave to him when he was three and moving away from Moscow. She and Wanda probably would've laughed at him if they saw him wear it. It was thoughts like these that made him wish even more that they were by his side. He recognized that he was beginning to go through a depressive episode, and should probably be grieving by visiting the grave or eating chocolate and ice cream while crying and watching a sitcom in his basement, but the grieving process is different for everyone. Some bottle up their emotions, some let them out, some break into the pentagon to get information on who killed their entire family. He actually did go to their graves and was outraged that they had a cross engraved in them. They were many things, but Cristian was not one of them, and it never would be. Hell, they didn't even celebrate Christmas! They celebrated Hannakuah! But the intolerance of these people made it such that they had a stupid cross on their graves! They wouldn't listen to him when he said they followed a version of Wicca and so, therefore, should have a pentagram on their graves. They wouldn't even listen to him when he said that they celebrated Jewish holidays and would settle for The Star of David, they just either ignored him, told him "we'll see what we can do" or one person told him he needed to repent! The actual nerve of these people! It sparked outrage in Jewish and Wicca communities, as well as some very liberal churches, but their petitions and letters to the graveyard did nothing. Nobody had any sympathy for what they seed as a "Devil-Worshipper." 

He arrived at the room he was looking for, the one specifically for records for mutant assassinations. If the files were in the Pentagon, they'd be here. When he walked into the room, he raised an eyebrow at the fact that nobody was in there. It was probably a trap, but if there was one strategy that he and Wanda followed religiously, it was if there was a trip, to spring the trap. He grabbed a stack of documents, his heart feeling a _twang_ of pain as he flipped through every one of them, considering that most of these victims' only crime was being a mutant. But they were killed in cold blood. Reason? No reason. No good one at least. When he finished the first pile he let out a sob. All of these mutants' life were cut short because of fear that was unprecedented. The same unprecedented fear that black people, gay people, and non-Christians got. He would get their revenge. It was his duty as the only one that was willing to. He grabbed a second stack and started looking through them before finding what he was looking for. The file of Wanda Maximoff, Magna Maximoff, and Lorna Dane Maximoff. It was exactly what he expected. The killing was a government hit. It was actually intended for the entirety of the Maximoff's, but he wasn't home when they attacked. He learned the name of the person who ordered it. General Willaim Stryker. He recognized the man's name. He was a military man, and extremely anti-mutant. No wonder he ordered it. The Maximoff twins would not settle for being anything less than high-profile. They had caused him a lot of trouble, and his actions were going to get him a hell of a lot more. 

_**"**_ ** _Pietro"_** A name called out to him. It was a woman's but not one he recognized. In fact, he wasn't sure he would ever recognize it. It sounded otherworldly. Unhuman. It was coming from the room attached to the one he was in. He opened the door with caution. The room was made entirely out of concrete, the walls being a dull gray. It was a small room. Couldn't be bigger than one of his old classrooms from high school. At the end of it, there was a glass box with a small control panel, with a door to exit the boxed-off glass. There was not much inside the room. Only a small glass case on top of a metal pole. It couldn't have been bigger than ten inches by ten inches. Floating inside the case was a stone. It was glowing an astonishing yellow color, it was almost uncanny how beautiful it looked. It hit him that it was the stone calling out for him, wanting to be freed, wanting something else that he couldn't place his finger on. There was no way to open the box without breaking it. But that didn't matter. He took his pointer finger and placed it on the case and started vibrating it. In a few seconds, the case shattered, but the stone kept floating. It called out to him to touch it. Without using his best judgment, he did. It started emitting yellow light. He recognized this light as power. It gathered in front of him and then started coursing through his body, painfully. He couldn't scream but instead stare in awe. 

**"** **PIETRO! STOP! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE COULDN'T HAVE COME HERE!"**

**"It is his destiny young one, we can not change it."**

** Wanda **

** Mom **

** It is their voices **

** What is happening **

** Help me **

He was feeling more powerful than he ever had before, and more power was coming in him every second. It hurt. Bad. He clamped his eyes shut, and started making small whimpers. Then abruptly his eyes shot open as he realized what this stone was. **It was the mind stone.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> His outfit is the one Wanda is seen wearing in this concept art. (just better fitted for a male of course) https://www.cbr.com/concept-art-scarlet-witch-avengers-ultron-costume/


	3. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter discovers his new powers given to him by the mind stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this during class lmao.

### More

###  _**Washington D.C, 1975, Third Person POV** _

He finally found his voice to let out a shriek. His hand jerked back but it was too late, there was an explosion, and his entire body was flown back into the wall, but stopped before it hit it hard. He sped off to the wall right of him and stared at the stone. _How in the goddam hell did I just survive that?_ he wondered. He glanced down and gasped in shock, jerked his head back for a few seconds before looking back down. His hands were covered in silver energy-like wisps. He brought them up to his face, trembling. The energy confined itself to his fingers and moved around them as he rotated his hands. He looked up in fear and sucked in a breath. Beforehand he merely studied the ones that could do this. The ones like his mother, the old lady who he had gotten that item for years ago with Wanda, **The Sorcerer-Fucking-Supreme.** He curled his hands up into a fist, and let out his breath. The magic spread to his wrist and he immediately stretched out his fingers. It moved again to his palm and the backs of his fingers, with a little bit going above the tips. 

His mind wandered to a memory from when he was 13. His mother had taken the family to the windy beaches of Scotland. Lorna was two, and Wanda was complaining about how she was cold. They were in a part of the beach that was deserted, nobody in at least seven miles from where they were. The reason they were there was not to have a relaxing vacation, but instead to see if Peter could run across an ocean. He could run on water, and had used this ability to save Wanda twice. The largest body of water he had ever run across was the Chesapeake Bay. The long way. First, he warmed up. He ran to the English Channel and then sped across it a couple of times. When he got back to his family, his mother pointed to a spot at the shore. It was low tide, a bit easier for him. She counted to three, and he took off. He got halfway across the Atlantic Ocean and was tired. He finally felt like how normal people feel when they had just ran a marathon, but he had to keep up his speed or else he would start sinking. Wanda's voice filled his head telling him not to over-exert himself. It was a warning that at the time, he waved off. He kept going, but eventually could not keep up his speed, feeling as if he was going to faint. He sank into the waves. His only thought was that he was going to die. But there was a pull on him, carrying him quickly through the waves until his head emerged. Soon, he realized that his body was slowly coming up above the sea. His head whipped back to see the mainland on the British Isles and his mother's tired look in her eyes and her small smile, as he was brought back to her embrace by the purple magic coming out of her hands. 

**"We both overestimated you"**

She said with a small, hushed tone.

**"We will both keep working on it, and you will eventually get it."**

And he did. Only a year later he ran across the Atlantic Ocean, two months after that the Pacific. But that was years ago. Back when he was innocent, having never actually killed a person or even had his first kiss with a man yet, (the one with a woman happened a year prior and it was very awkward) and he was only starting to think about sex and what it was. Back when he still could hear the annoyed quips of Wanda, or the scared cries of Lorna, or maybe even the loving, yet stern tone of his mother. He couldn't do that anymore, not with their real voices, pronounced with their real vocal cords, using their real bodies. His mother could no longer help him while in her physical form, with her hand on his shoulder, only as a ghostly voice in his head, her spirit staying with him to make sure he doesn't fuck up something too badly. 

**_"FREEZE"_** He was startled, awakening him from his daydreams as he whipped his head back to see 5 officers pointing their guns back at him. He put on a small, open smirk. His arm came up and the officers themselves froze at the sight of the magic on his hand. 

"Hello boys," He said with a flirty, elongated, seductive tone, one he was very used to using, teasing them for their fear of something he grew up around. One of the guns suddenly floated in the air, covered by the same silver his hands were emitting. The gun zoomed back to his hand, and he grabbed it, the guy he took it from letting out a small yelp. "I apologize for startling you, but it looks like you'll be a bit more than a little shaken up after I'm done." Everything started slowing down, and put on his headphones and started running. 

" _Mama, just killed a man, put a gun against his head pulled my trigger, now he's dead"_

He frowned. He must have played a bit of the song beforehand and just not remembered it. No matter. There were better things to do than rewinding the tape anyway. The officers pulled the trigger and the bullets started slowly flying out of the barrel. Peter jumped up on the wall and placed his hand by his foot, bending down, and the wall started changing, with a red-silver static-like line slowly engulfing it, changing its color from a dull grey to a bright red with a silver shimmer. 

" _Mama, life had just begun, but now I've gone and thrown it all away_ "

He stood up and took two steps before looking behind him at the magic-covered wall. A small, sudden pain appeared in his legs, it felt as if he scratched a single place on his body for a bit too long, it was sudden and didn't feel pleasurable like a light bite to the neck by a lover- or maybe something more intense than a light bite, this is Peter after all-but it also didn't feel like a building was dropped on him. 

" _Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry"_

He peered down at the source of it and his eyes traveled to his leg. His pants had a small hole in them as a bullet grazed his leg. There was a bit of blood, but it didn't go anywhere deep enough to cause any serious damage. He could almost hear his mother scolding him for not paying attention. He slowed down slightly- running at top speed might damage it more- and he kept going.

" _If I'm not back again, this time tomorrow! Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters."_

His legs found themselves behind the men causing him to jump down behind them. He grabbed one of the bullets and put it by the third one to the right's head and pushed it in the right direction. At first he thinks it's capital murder but then he remembers that he has a reason to do it. They're trying to stop him from avenging his mother. They're trying to stop him from avenging his twin. They're trying to stop him from avenging his little eight-year-old sister. He didn't know much about his father, but he knew that he was once at the mercy of men "only following orders". He would not be. And that's a fact. 

_"Too late, my time has come, sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time."_

His anger got the best of him, and he went to the man on the other's left and punched him. His body flew into the man next to him and Peter knew that the domino effect would happen if he didn't make it stop. He didn't want it to. He wanted them to suffer and that was a good way to do it. 

_"Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go. Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth"_

Peter wondered what his mother would think of him now that this all happened. Now that her previously mutant son was now her mutant-magic user son who got his magic abilities not from learning the mystic arts or being taught magic by a coven, but instead by touching the mind stone like an idiot inside the pentagon while he was getting information on her and her two daughter's deaths. If she was alive he would get yelled at. _Damn right you would._ He heard his mother's spirit mutter. He let out a giggle. The bullet he pushed was going through the guard's cheek, and he kept his eyes focused on him.

_"Mama, ooh (Any way the wind blows). I don't want to die"_

The bullet went into the cheek and blood was starting to splutter out of the wound. The red liquid was flowing down the chin, before a single drop started to drip onto the floor. Peter put his finger on this speck of blood. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and brought his finger up to his head. He licked the blood off of his finger. It was metallic and salty, like all blood was. He reveled in the taste of the blood of his enemies. After that, he put two fingers back on the blood, scooped some up, and dragged his blood-covered fingers across his right cheek. 

_"I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all"_

He took a few steps forward past the guard and turned his head back to admire his work. The cement walls were not a dashing, glittering scarlet, with magic being the reason for it. At least one man was dead, with 4 others most likely, and a smudge of blood on his cheek and two of his fingers. Smiling at his work, he took snapped his fingers, having an almost instinctive feeling that something would happen if he did. His hands returned to normal, and unfortunately, so did the walls. His smile turned into a frown, he took off his headphones before the next line of _Bohemian Rhapsody_ could play, and walked out of the room. 

\---------

**_ Peter's house, Washington D.C, Summer of 1975, Third Person POV  _ **

When he arrived home, he entered through the side door near the left closet by the stairs leading upstairs. Not the back door by the kitchen, or the front door by the living room. His house did just have 3 grizzly murders occur just a week prior, he had blood on his face, and was wearing his sister's clothing. Alerting the neighbors seemed like a bad idea. The news of their deaths went national. He cast a spell at his altar in the basement, hoping that it wouldn't go international. He was a wanted criminal after all, and luckily it didn't. Although he and Wanda had made sure there wasn't any real evidence that they committed any crime, Peter knew that the government knew, with the information he gathered on the hit being ordered by an army general. After closing the door and locking it behind him, he strode down the hallway with the manilla-colored folder that heald all he needed to get angry. He quickly speeds off to the bathroom and wraps up his leg wound, and then runs to the basement to change into pyjamas. 

Sitting down at the kitchen table that the MPDC themselves replaced, he opened up the file for further inspection. He was delighted at how easy it was to find. He didn't know what dumbass placed it right there in the room next to the mind stone, but he commended them. He sucked in a breath, ready to face the horrors that the unassuming folder was sure to hold. Three sentences in and he got up to pour himself a glass of wine. They were horrific. His eight-year-old sister was not an "enemy-to-the-state!" She probably wouldn't even know what that meant! He felt his hands go silver again and he stretched them in and out trying not to damage his mother's expensive wine or wine glasses. It was well established that she and Wanda could sometimes say some things to him beyond the fucking grave and he was sure that she would use colorful language with him if he accidentally pulled a stunt like that. 

_"Number one, yes she would, number two, she says that our murder file isn't going to be the only thing your reading tonight. Apparently, she has a big-ass book that's going to be useful or something in her bedroom's closet."_

That was Wanda. He found that these spirits weren't very polite and didn't say "hello" or "goodbye" or maybe even an "I love you" 

_"Hello, Goodbye, I love you."_

He also found that they were sassy sons of bitches that could read his thoughts that he accidentally projected. Goddammit. He heard Wanda's cackle at that one, and could only imagine his mother drinking to it.

With a sigh, he sped up to his mother's room. The closet door was open, with a small light shining through some clothes covering the top left-hand corner. He squatted down to it, moving some old t-shirts and dresses from the '50s and '60s. Under them was not one but several books. Peter estimated that they had at least as much content as the Encyclopedia Britannica, of which they kept downstairs. He once got bored one summer and read it in under two hours. His mom was unsurprised but proud. The spine of the books was blank and black, and the cover wasn't much happier. It was black except for a brown strip on the top of the book. In gold letters, the word _"Maximoff"_ was inscribed on the strip on the left side and the right side had a number ranging from one to ten. There were thick books. He opened the first one and was presented with Russian. He got to reading, and was surprised to see that it was addressed to him. It was written by his mother, and dated May 18, 1968. He raised his eyebrow at the date. How did she know that he was going to find these books and not Wanda? How did she know anybody was going to find these at all? He could only hope his questions would be answered later in the book. 

_"Peter,"_ the note started, _"I know first-hand how confusing this must be for you, how alone you must feel, and how uncertain the future will be. By the time you are reading this, I will be gone and so will your sister. I am sorry we had to leave, but it is the fate of our family. Hundreds of years ago,_ _Anastasia Borisova Maximoff agreed to the spell to be cast on our family, although I consider it to be more of a curse than a spell. Those several hundred years ago, she didn't take up a mere responsibility, but instead a commitment, not only for her, but her entire family for generations to come. Chaos Magic is an extremely powerful form of magic only wieldable to The Scarlet Witch or Quicksilver. It has the ability to make anything, or change reality. Wielding chaos magic also comes with a slew of other magical abilities, ones that you will learn to master. Anastasia agreed to be The Scarlet Witch. And she agreed for her son to be Quicksilver, and her daughter to be dead. They turned out to be twins. She was a twin. Her brother was found dead two weeks later. They were both 19. This was the start of an endless cycle. Two Maximoffs are born. They are twins. The parent carrying the Maximoff family blood is either The Scarlet Witch or Quicksilver. If magic had nothing to do with the making of the twins then they are always a boy and a girl. The twin to survive past 19 will always be born the opposite sex to the current chaos magic holder. I am The Scarlet Witch. And that makes you Quicksilver. Chaos Magic is not something to mess around with. Having Chaos Magic means you basically have a target on the back of your head. It means your more powerful than The Sorcerer Supreme, as powerful as the Phoenix. The power to wield reality itself and change how we know it. Bend the fabric of it as much as you please. That coupled with all other magic and the ability to affect probability? You're gonna fuck some shit up. Ten chaos magic users ago, they decided to start keeping a log/diary. They started to write spells and other useful information in there and it soon turned into the Maximoff Book One, the one your holding as you read this. There have been ten Maximoff books since, with me being the writer of the latest one, the tenth. You will write the Eleventh, which will later be read by not only your children, but all Maximoff's later on. I know you will still have questions after this, but you will have to find those answers yourself. I can only hope this helped, - Magna Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch._

If Peter needed a drink before reading that _essay_ then he sure as hell needed one now. He peered back at the other books, one extra was there. It had a gold eleven on the cover. Placing the first one down, the opened the new book up, and was greeted with two words written in gold. **_Pietro Maximoff_**. He didn't feel like reading anymore now that he had just had this _bombshell_ dropped on him. He only felt like getting drunk, and forgetting all of this, but he knew that he wouldn't forget for long before remembering again. He had work to do. A lot of it. If we're honest, he's not going to get to it for awhile. He doesn't want to get to it. He speeds all of the books to the basement, before walking up to the kitchen. He grabbed the wine and a glass, along with the " _murder file_ " He agrees with Wanda on what it is. Going down to the basement, he places the file on top of the seventh book, and pours himself a glass of wine. 


End file.
